


in every universe, every reality

by hislance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dreamscapes, M/M, Mage Keith (Voltron), Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Prince Lance (Voltron), adashi because they deserved better, six of crows references if you squint, theyre all altean too!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-08-06 11:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hislance/pseuds/hislance
Summary: From the tales of old, the one about the Prince and the Mage was one that was often overlooked.It was probably because no one had time for things like soulmates and scorned lovers, Allura assumed, but she herself adored the tale far more than the other nasty ones about battles and prophesies. She just never thought there would be a quintant when she would see a story so familiar unfold right before her eyes.Maybe coincidence was just another word to cover for the miracles of Fate.





	1. prologue

Nighttime draped itself over the blinking lights of Altea like a mother wolf pulling her cub into her chest from the dangers of the forest. The constant hum from the crowded streets dwindled to a few whispered words getting lost in the rhythm of the wind. 

The telltale sound of a child’s laughter rang through a hallway in the bustling castle, prompting two chambermaids to let out endeared chortles. The young princess had succeeded in winning over the hearts of both servants and warriors alike in the past four years of her presence, all finding a day without one of the princess’s escapades fruitless. 

The two chambermaids hurried past, peeking fleeting glances into the open door of the nursery. 

Inside, the young princess of Altea was making a ruckus, somehow both exhausting and endearing her father’s adviser. The man had come to take up the role of a parent in her life, looking after her needs whenever he could after her mother had passed. 

Princess Allura would forever be grateful for the amount of love Coran showers her with, but she could not help from making his life at least a little bit miserable. She giggled, running away from the hands attempting to grab her tiny form. 

“Princess, please! It’s time for bed!” Coran sounded close to collapsing after chasing her around for over an hour, Allura wondered how her father had allowed it. Shrugging, she decided to take pity upon the poor man. 

Allura flopped onto her ginormous bed, making herself comfortable inside the fluffy sheets, “Tell me a story, Coran!” 

Coran sighed in relief, taking a seat on the bed beside the little princess. He ran his fingers through her luscious silver locks, humming to himself when a voice called from the doorway of the nursery, “Have you heard of the story about the sleeping prince?”

Turning around, Coran saw King Alfor leaning against the door, still in his armor. 

“Alfor, why haven’t you changed yet?” Coran frowned, “I swear you and your daughter are going to be the reason my beautiful hair turns white.” 

Alfor laughed, pushing off the now closed doorway and walking towards the two people dearest to him. He took a seat across Coran on the bed, on Allura’s other side and pulled some of the armor off of him. As soon as he was done, Allura latched onto him, her tiny arms reaching across his abdomen and squeezing another laugh out of him, “I missed you too, sweetheart.” 

“Your daughter was very mischievous today,” Coran chided, a smile pulling at his lips. 

Alfor returned the smile, “You can’t blame just me! She’s your daughter as much as she is mine, Coran.” 

“I wanna hear the story about the sleeping prince!” Allura piped in, sensing the atmosphere and hurrying to break it from previous experience. 

“Did you mean the one where the prince was cursed?” Coran quipped, “Prince Leandro?” 

Alfor hummed, “The very same.” 

“Well, then you both better get comfortable! This is a long story,” Coran pulled himself under the blankets, following his own instructions, “This story took place over centuries ago, back when Alteans had elemental magic.” 

“That _is_ where the Lions got there powers from,” Alfor mused. 

Young Allura’s eyes had that glint in them, the one she got whenever she was excited, “I’ve read about that! Everyone was an Elemental Mage, right? Like Water Mages and Earth Mages-” 

“There were Fire Mages and Air Mages too,” Coran added. “Everyone received their element from the compatibility of their quintessence with that certain element, and Mages trained to control their given element and others alike. Prince Leandro himself was a Water Mage, though he couldn’t finish his studies on Magic in time. Duty calls, especially for Royalty.”

“What was he like?” 

“Legend says he was one of the best Kings to rule over Altea,” Coran smiled, “But he isn’t recorded in History Scrolls for his story is much of a myth, and it occurred centuries ago so no one knows for sure what actually happened.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a tale to indulge young lovers,” Alfor piped in. 

“That may also be tr-” 

Allura interrupted with an impatient pout on her lips, “Tell me what happened, Coran!” 

“Very well,” Coran laughed. “As most stories do, it all started one fine day in the middle of summer…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hh i hurried to get this out on keef's birthday and it's like only nine where i am, i hope i'm still valid 
> 
> weekly updates, hopefully :0


	2. ━ i.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a crush on him.” 
> 
> It was not a question and they both knew it. A little bit of Keith had died inside with each question and jab Shiro had made afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled: elle uses way too many semi-colons
> 
> enjoy! ;3

Utter chaos. 

That was all Keith could remember seeing in every nook and cranny of Altea since that morning. Utter chaos. 

The interior of the royal palace was worse off. There were servants running around in every hallway and corridor, carrying pristine white serving dishes and hand woven tablecloths in Altean colours and whatnot. A joyous atmosphere settled down over the hustle and bustle of the castle’s staff. Keith had seen the Queen herself crack a tiny smile at ruckus caused by her two mischief-makers. The young twin Princes had run around all morning, cooking up nothing but more trouble for their chambermaids. 

Most would call the ambience of the palace festive. Keith preferred the term ‘chaotic’. 

He had holed himself away in his quarters, away from Shiro’s disappointed eyebrow raise and Adam’s parently fussing. He hoped the latter would not notice the few books missing from his quite impressive collection when he came back. 

Keith had nose half-buried inside one of the books by the time he heard the telltale sound of Adam’s footsteps on the stone steps outside. 

By the time he had managed to cover himself with the Invisibility Cloak, Adam had entered the chambers and was looking around with that infamous poker face of his. Instantly, Keith regretted not seeking out one of the castle’s many hidden passageways during his quest to find refuge. The boy cursed under his breath when Adam’s eyes locked onto the exact spot where he had been hidden from mortal eyes, holding said breath. He should have known that even something this powerful would not have worked on the Altean royal High Mage. 

Letting the Cloak wither away, Keith slumped forward. A familiar ‘tch’ sounded off of the walls and found their way into Keith’s ears, and he knew Adam was trying his best not to lecture him for his indiscipline. “Keith,” said boy could feel the disappointment rolling off of Adam in the way he dragged out Keith’s name. He turned to face Adam with the groan. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be down there with the other Fire Mages today?” it was not a question and they both knew it. 

“Bu-” 

Adam cut him off, “If you say you’re not needed there, I will hex you into oblivion.” 

Keith bit back his tongue from saying that. He was quite that the threat was not quite empty, but he could not bring himself to care. 

“But I’m not,” he did not care about the borderline whine in his voice either. 

Adam sighed and pushed himself off of the wall next to the door, walking forward to take a seat next to Keith. He tucked one of the loose strands of hair falling out of Keith’s braid behind his ear and rested his hand on top of his young’s apprentice’s head, ruffling his hair much to Keith’s chagrin. 

He sighed, reluctantly leaning to the touch of Adam’s hand. 

Keith was at the trifling age of nine when he had to watch the only home he had ever known burn down to crisp right before his eyes as he stood and watched on, unable to move his limbs from their frozen state. He tries his best to keep memories of his last moments with his father at bay but they still resurface behind his eyelids and drip down his eyelashes in the dark of the night when no one was looking in the form of crystalline tears. He took it as life’s irony when Adam led him to discover his quintessential element to be fire of all things and had to physically contain himself from laughing when he realised that his magic left behind the smell of incense and hints of smoke lingering in the aftereffects of the spell and cursed at the stars twinkling away happily, wondering if the twinkling was the lights of fate mocking and laughing at his blatant cruelty. 

He was still a mere child when he had set out looking for a job, _threateningly_ waving his wooden toy sword at the stoic palace guards to let him in or otherwise. As fate would have it, it just so happened that Shiro crossed paths with a tiny Keith throwing a tantrum at the back entrance of the castle, and for some reason unbeknownst to Keith decided to take the seething birdling under his wing. He had attempted to train Keith with the other young potential soldiers before Adam caught a hold of him. 

Adam had been consistently complaining to Shiro about how he had been hints and fragments of immense amounts of powers in seemingly random patterns across the palace, and it all ultimately ended up leading him to a scrawny twelve – years – old boy who went by the name of Keith. The man had snatched him from under Shiro’s wing and nestled him under his very own, not hesitating before declaring the ravenhead as his new apprentice. 

Keith had sputtered and denied, headstrong in his decision to serve as a warrior and aid Altea in any way he could. Adam was not having any of it. 

It was a chilly winter morning when he had stumbled across Adam twirling his fingers across the warm aura the room offered with the hearth’s aid, a dozen snowflakes tracking his movements as if entranced by the possibility of getting a taste. Maybe it was the ungodly hour, maybe it was the warmth of the room, but the boy could not help from being completely taken with the way Adam seemed to move those winkling flecks of ice through the air simply at will. He had stood there, stiller than a statue, eyes glued to the flakes like a hawk for a few solemn moments before he could snap himself out of it. Adam had been entertaining an injured Shiro, but at that point the boy did not care whether he interrupted what had been an intimate moment between the couple. 

“Teach me,” he had blurted without thinking heat flooding the apples of his cheeks as he realised the extent of his intrusion. But Adam – the great man that he is – had simply smiled softly, and reached out a hand towards Keith to guide him through all the obstacles they had overcome hand in hand since that day. Keith’s love for magic had not faded since. 

Neither had his godforsaken appeal to Water Magic. 

Adam was there to guide him through the path already carved out for him inside his quintessence, in the journey to the core of his being where his Element was hidden. He was there when those dam walls Keith had spent years building up cracked and collapsed after he had the revelation that fate had chosen Fire to be the Element that guided him through life. He was there to help Keith learn to slowly love and respect the one Element that simultaneously kept his heart beating and taken away the one glimpse at childhood he had had, cruel as fate was. Unknowingly, Adam and Shiro too up the positions of the parental figures in his life that Keith had always yearned to have. Adam knew every nook and cranny of the universe Keith had crafted inside his mind, from the last encounter he had had with his biological father to small details such as Keith’s embarrassing everlasting teenage crush on the Crown Prince. 

So why did Keith have to explain his actions now? 

“Because hiding away behind silly reasons will not help you face actual reality, little bird,” Keith started, realizing a second too late that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. 

Adam’s voice was as true as ever and they both were aware of that fact, but the both also knew that Adam was aware of why Keith was hesitant to participate in the castle’s ceremonious pre-festivity activities, so could he not be lenient on the boy for once? “You know why I didn’t go down there, Adam-” 

“Yes, but you have to at least _try_ , Keith-” 

“I’ve tried time and again, Adam, and I _always_ mess up-” 

“Maybe this time you _won’t_ -” 

“But I will-!” 

“Keith,” Shiro’s low discordance cut through their dispute like a double-edged sword slicing Keith just enough to bring him back to his senses and the boy physically flinched back at the coldness of his tone, “do not shout at Adam.” 

Shiro’s gaze softened when he saw the younger boy turn his face away. He sighed, closing the door through which he had just entered and walked the short distance between his ex-student and significant other before taking a seat across Adam on Keith’s other side. “You know he wants the best for you, Keith. Fighting like this is only gonna make things worse.”

“I admit my way of approaching this matter wasn’t… ideal,” Adam murmured, sheepish in the way his hand reached out to rub the back of his neck. Shiro grinned, chuckling fondly at his fiancé’s awkward habits. “We’re both aware of how bad Adam is with words, almost as bad as you, Keith. I can see why you two clicked.” 

“Shut up,” Keith grumbled, lips pulling downwards as he tried to discreetly jab his elbow into the older man’s side. 

Shiro was humming, face thoughtful for a moment as he easily dodged Keith’s attack before a Cheshire grin spread cross his features, and Keith did not like the nervous feeling it brought to his gut whatsoever. “You’re assigned to work with the two Mages on the East Wing, right?” 

Keith nodded reluctantly, and regretted it instantly when Shiro’s grin widened. 

“Are you sure you’re not making excuses just so you don’t have to cross paths with a certain Crown Prince?” the heat that took over Keith’s was almost completely worth being tackled over by said boy, and Shiro cursed himself for having too much fun and letting his guard down. 

Keith shot up, strands of hair sticking out of his mess of a braid. “All right, fine, I’ll go!” 

“A little eager now, are we?” Adam chimed in, eliciting an embarrassed groan from the already flushing boy. 

Keith could still hear the couple’s laughter on his way stomping out of his chambers and out through the living room adjacent to the kitchen and reluctantly allowed himself a small indulgent smile. Oh, what would he do without those two? 

 

* * *

 

Shiro let a fond sigh escape through his nose as he watched the boy he had come to view as a younger brother leave in exasperation of his and Adam’s antics, huffs of laughter managing to escape as the image of Keith’s embarrassed face flushed through his head once again. 

“He really has grown up, huh?” 

Adam’s voice cut through the exuberant atmosphere that had adapted itself around the trio and the man shifted to face Shiro on the couch with a more serious expression. Shiro’s lips quirked up on one side. “In some ways more than others.” 

“I’m worried about him,” Adam admitted. “I genuinely have no clue as to why his Magic is so… complex compared to everyone else’s. I’ve searched through every book in the Royal Library and none mentioned power so great, and not a drop of ink about Mages not being able to handle their Magic.” 

“Maybe someone had them removed?” Shiro offered, but even then he knew how low the possibility was. It was kingdom-wide knowledge that the Royal Library had every script to ever be published within Altean borders, and to remove one without express permission from the current ruling monarch would instantly mean a prison sentence of at least 6 phoebs. 

Adam, however, hummed, “It is a possibility. Maybe one of the Royals found power that great threatening, and tried to expel proof that it may someday become a reality. But why would a Royal find it threatening when Mages are clearly on their sides?” 

Shiro gave a non-committal shrug before pushing himself off of his side and towards Adam, pulling the man snug inside his arms, “Do we have to worry about that now?” 

“Takashi,” there was a slight whine in Adam’s voice and Shiro decided he loved the sound of it. “This is important, you know that.” 

“I know, I know,” Shiro grinned. “But annoying you is so much more fun.” 

“Sometimes I feel like you’re more annoying than the Prince.” 

“Prince Leandro?” 

“Yeah,” Adam huffed, finally shifting to settle more comfortable in Shiro’s embrace. “It feels like his life mission is to distract me from giving him those lessons on the History of Altea, I genuinely wonder what Keith sees in him.” 

Shiro laughs at that, “I doubt he ever interacted with the Prince himself, he always gets fluffy and red in the face whenever he’s in close proximity of the boy.” 

“Oh really?” an evil grin spread across Adam’s face that. “Takashi, I’m gonna be needing a teaching assistant during those lessons with Prince Leandro.” 

Shiro laughed openly at that, unable to help himself. Sometimes he genuinely forgot how atrocious his fiancé could really be. “I know the exact person, sweetheart. He’s currently in the East Wing being a disaster, as usual.” 

Adam hummed and reached up to place a gentle kiss on Shiro’s jaw. “As much as I love being indolent with you, I really do have to prepare for the Prince’s lessons.” 

This time it was Shiro who whined when Adam pulled away from him, cold already filling up the empty space left behind by his significant other. Shiro’s face curved into a sulk but he let himself have the enjoyment of tracing the soft curves of Adam’s form from his position on the couch. The other man was tracing slender fingers along the spines of the books he had collected throughout the five years he had served Altea as the High Mage. 

A glimpse of purple caught Shiro’s eyes and he backtracked his gaze, discovering it was a book about the Great War from decaphoebs ago. Maybe Adam could teach the Prince about- 

The Great War. 

“Adam?” Shiro called out tentatively, and a nonchalant hum answered his call. “I think I have an idea as to why someone could’ve got those books removed from the Library.” 

Adam turned around completely, attention fully on Shiro now, eyebrows pulled up in curiousity, “What do you mean?”

“What if…” Shiro hesitated, not sure if he should say it. The Great War had been settled decaphoebs ago, over a hundred as far as he remembered, and there has not been a single sign of Dark Magic since then. The War took place when Magic itself was first harvested, he doubted books with so much research had been written back then. There was the slightest possibility… “What if they thought you-know-who would try to manifest the power?” 

“You-know-who?” Adam raised an eyebrow, curiousity giving away easily to confusion. 

Shiro gulped, hesitating again before whispering softly, “The Druids.” 

 

* * *

 

There were servants bustling around almost every hallway in the East Wing, mirroring all the other sections Keith had yet to have the misfortune of having to traverse through. Servants were dusting window panes and curtains while chambermaids emerged from their assigned nobles’ quarters various tasks and some other activities throughout the night that he would rather not think about. Fire Mages roamed the now pristine hallway, lighting candlesticks they had previously missed and preparing their quintessence accordingly to the air conditions, preparing to cast the incantation to cancel out their gravity. The spell usually worked much better with Air Mages – them being able to control the air currents as well – but Fire Magic cancelled out a few of the gases they used to manipulate their quintessence, thus putting Fire Mages to the task. All in all, the whole wing was crowded. 

Keith hated crowds. 

He pushed his way through a cluster of maids chattering away mindlessly about things Keith desperately wanted to not think about – namely the oldest Prince. Keith’s face heated up once more as he remembered how obvious he was about his prepubescent feelings for him, much to his own chagrin. When he was still not in terms with the fact that he fancied the Prince, his method of denial was to say he did not know anything about him. Though that much was quite true, Keith was embarrassingly aware of how attractive Prince Leandro truly is – made aware by the kingdom’s female population, mainly – and came to grudgingly accept that he liked to appreciate pretty things, such as the Prince’s face. He was around fourteen back then, and he would have had to perform miracles to avoid catching an embarrassing teenage crush. Keith did not regret confiding in Adam about his musings for Prince Leandro, but how Shiro came to know was another story entirely. 

It was back in the Autumn of Keith’s fifteenth year, just over a decaphoebs from the talk he had had with Adam. As fate would have it, he and Shiro had accidentally crossed paths with the Prince. The two had snuck out of the Palace late after the curfews had been sounded in hopes of finding a suitable gift for Adam – who had quite clearly forgotten about his own birthday, probably currently roaming in his study trying to figure out where in Saint Margritte’s name had Keith and Shiro holed up now – and was heading towards the kitchens after sneaking back in with an alarming amount of lemon tarts for an impromptu midnight baking session when they ran headfirst into Prince Leandro sneaking out of the kitchens with conspicuous looking white powder in his hair. He was barely a decaphoeb into his teens, soft cheeks dotted with a galaxy of freckles; still incredibly endearing, though. 

“Your highness?!” 

Keith was still high on the shock on seeing the Crown Prince of Altea in such informal dressings but was forced out of his reverie by Shiro’s similarly shocked squeak. Shiro was the youngest soldier to have made Commanding General in over a hundred decaphoebs but his duties remained the same as his predecessors: as General, it was his duty to protect the Crown Prince by any means necessary; no wonder he looked ready to burst a nerve. 

The Prince’s face morphed from shock to panic in a matter of seconds and Keith was surprised to find that he did not expect Shiro to be able to predict that Prince Leandro would try to bolt down the opposite corridor and had grabbed onto his elbow before any of them could bat an eyelash. _‘This is why you didn’t make it in the barracks, you podge,’_ a frown tugged at Keith’s lips as he internally berated himself. 

“Your highness–,” Shiro started again, a similar frown pulling his own lips downwards, “I shall have to report this to Queen Malika, you’re aware of that, yes?” 

“Please,” desperation leaked heavily from Prince Leandro’s voice, eyes darting from Shiro to Keith and back again, flooded with panic. Keith was embarrassed to find his face heating up when he was the direct object under the Prince’s gaze, “I’ll do anything, just don’t– she’ll never let me–” 

Shiro’s hesitant eyes et Keith’s for a single beat before returning his gaze to meet the Prince’s, “What were you doing in there, your majesty?” 

The Prince let a bit of tension escape from his posture at Shiro’s gentle tone, but his form remained rigid. His eyes darted left and right to see if anyone was there before his relenting gaze returned back to meet Shiro’s, “I… the Head Chef has been helping me learn how to cook for the past few phoebs; I come down almost every night to practice.” 

Shiro had looked shocked for a beat before his features morphed gently into a soft smile. Keith took in the way the Prince shifted nervously and ran his hands up his elbows. Was it a nervous habit? Maybe he was cold? Maybe Keith should offer him his coat. Would it be too threadbare for the Prince? Would he notice Keith’s scent? 

Keith rushed to stop his trail of thoughts as he realised exactly what he was thinking, despite knowing the dumb shit he always did when was not thinking, for example, 

“That was awfully nice for someone like him,” he had spoken up suddenly, voice too high to be normal garnering the Prince’s attention to himself. Keith did not miss the way Shiro narrowed his eyes at him before realizing he had started blushing from talking to the Prince. Keith was suddenly grateful about being a Fire Mage; contrary to popular belief, it was Water Mages whose blushes were more prominent compared to that of the Fire Mages, the cold their power brought always left them flushed whereas Fire Mages manipulated heat to cover themselves up. Keith did not try to use his Magic now though, knowing the disaster that might take place if he did. 

But the Prince had merely grinned at his words and the corners of his eyes crinkled along with his smile, and Keith melted a little inside. Surely he would not need a coat when he had a smile that. Saints, how much more of a disaster could Keith cause when he was a massive one himself? “He’s quite amusing when you get past that initial phase when he thinks you’re trying to steal the croissants.” 

Shiro coughed slightly, directing his smile towards Prince Leandro. “I can make sure that the Queen does not hear about… but you must help us with something first!” 

The Prince had perked up instantly, seemingly unaware that Shiro was practically blackmailing him, “Anything!” 

“You mentioned you learned how to cook? Well…” Shiro glanced sheepishly back at Keith, “Neither of us can cook to save our skins. It’s the High Mage’s birthquin the next quintant; we wanted to bake something for him to surprise him with, but…” 

“It’s Adam’s birthday?!” 

While it was true that neither of them could cook for shit, Shiro had just hinted that he wanted the Prince to help them bake. The crown Prince. Prince Leandro. Keith wanted the ground to open up and swallow him alive. 

“Should we bake a cake?” the Prince had grinned merrily. “It’s extremely easy! Come on in, I’ll help you.” 

The night had passed with Prince Leandro bossing them around the Kitchen and Keith turning red each time he was directly addressed by the Prince, conspicuously also avoiding Shiro’s gaze time each time that occurred. The turned out to be delicious. 

“You have a crush on him.” 

It was not a question and they both knew it. A little bit of Keith had died inside with each question and jab Shiro had made afterwards. 

He had adamantly avoided Prince Leandro since that night; it was a shame he was probably going to have to break that streak on this very quintant. He sighed, running a hand through the loose black strands framing his face. Thinking about that night was bad enough, reliving it felt like instant death. He shook his head, eyes scanning his surroundings. 

He kept an eye out for the familiar gold of Nyma’s hijab and let his eye’s wander, taking in the extravagant decorations the Royal Palace was bathing in courtesy of the Crown Prince’s sixteenth birthquin. The ginormous red curtains that usually adorned the windows was taken down in favour of hanging up royal blue curtains with silver accents. The crystals used to elongate the period during which the fires in the lamps burned were charmed to glow navy, lighting up the flames alongside. Keith had never been that fond of blue in particular but it soothed him in a way that he could not find anywhere else. 

All the blue around the palace signified Prince Leandro’s quintessence. 

In Altea, when the eldest child of the ruling monarch reaches their sixteenth decaphoeb, they officially have to take up the title of Heir, or the Crown Prince or Princess; unless, of course, it was decided that someone else in the royal bloodline is decided to be the next Heir. The Altean populace had found it surprising when just a few months into his birth, Queen Malika declared that no one but Prince Leandro would be her Heir; they all had accepted nonetheless, trusting their Queen’s word above all. On the sixteenth birthquin, the Heir pledges to uphold the bloodline on the dais in front of the Saints of Old before they are blessed by the Mage Council and deemed acceptable to be the next ruler of Altea. 

Keith had never heard of an Heir being deemed unacceptable, but he supposed it was possible; surely the Royal Family would want to keep such an instance hush-hush. 

A sheath of gold caught in the periphery of his sight and Keith pivoted on his heels, heading towards two of his fellow Fire Mages; Rolo had already noticed him, waving him over with a lazy smile. Keith felt a smile tug at his lips; out of all the other Fire Mages present in the castle, Rolo and Nyma were the only ones he was comfortable around. Most were jealous of his power and position, others wary of his ravenous magic. The pair was situated on the panes below the window farthest from where the crowd of servants was the thickest. Nyma was decked in her usual attire; golden hijab and cream robes while Rolo was clad in a sleeveless red coatee over his. 

Keith greeted them with familiar informality, words such that Adam would have definitely bristled if he had heard them before he noticed the obvious. 

“Where’s Pidge?” Pidge, or rather Katie, was the Air Mage they were always assigned to work with special occurrences that took place at the palace. Nyma replied, “Apparently something came up with Prince Leandro? Matt came to call her.” 

“Oh,” Keith wondered what could have possibly happened to the Prince just vargas before his reception before deciding he had thought enough about Prince Leandro for one day. “Guess we’ll have to work without her. You two ready?” 

As far as Keith figured, Rolo was quite good at hiding his feelings but he could still hear hints of hesitance in his voice as he spoke, “We are, I guess… You sure you can do this, man?” 

“I can,” Keith replied brusquely. He knew that he was being extremely rude and that Rolo was just looking out for him, but he could not keep himself from feeling indignant at being called out. He cursed himself for being sensitive whenever someone brought up his powers. 

“Woah,” Rolo raised his hands, as if to surrender. “Chill, bro.” 

With a jolt, Keith realised he had reached out to his Magic. He could feel it surround his, flooding his senses and clouding his minds; he felt that warm buzz that his Magic always brought with it under his skin, could feel it flowing alongside the blood in his veins. 

“Keith,” Nyma began, sounding highly alarmed, “What’s going on?” 

Keith let out a gasp, feeling a cold slipping across his skin and seeping past his blood to grip his Magic in a frightening chokehold. He knew this was Magic of a sort, but it was like no other Magic he had felt before; it was colder than ice, colder than Water Magic but the feeling burned hotter than Fire Magic and sent his thoughts into a frenzy which was the opposite of Earth Magic which calmed him. He this unfamiliar Magic surround him completely, his form paralyzed. He distantly heard someone call his name but the Magic had him in a chokehold. He felt his legs give away, unable to fight the pressure of the Magic any longer, before he was hurled backwards. 

“Keith–!” 

Keith cried out, consciousness slipping in and out as the spell clamped down around the core of his power. He felt the surface he had landed against give away behind him and mustered enough strength to tilt his head back enough to see what was happening. He saw the wall sliding away, opening up the entrance to another passageway. 

The last thing he remembered was seeing Prince Leandro’s frightened blue eyes emerging from the hidden passage before he promptly collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> foreshadowing, big words + cliffhanger! i'd say this was a successful chapter :D happy birthday keith, you gay emo spicy boi


	3. ━ n.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I swear on Saint Pyotr’s beard, if you disappear on me like that again, I will make sure you never see one of Chef Emil’s cheesecakes ever again.” Lance gasped in mock offense, indignation plastered across the soft curves that assembled his features as he dramatically clutched the area right over his heart as if he had been wounded. “You would do that to me!?” 
> 
> Leah chuckled maliciously, used to her brother’s antics after fourteen decaphoebs of living with him – at least, enough to make her own rebuttals, “I won’t hesitate, you podge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet leah: an absolute sweetheart who i am gay for even though i am the one who created her

Lance remembers glimpses of memories from his childhood in which his mother used to read out to him before the memory of her figure was replaced by his nanny. He had always found her baritone soothing; it was smooth yet deep, and he found it amusing how horrible she was at singing. She used to tell him stories about Mages and faraway Princesses and heroic Princes. Lance loved the adventures and mysteries they unravelled, but he was fondest of how each story seemed to start with the main protagonist’s life turning upside down. 

He never imagined that someday he would end up in the same position. 

It all started six phoebs prior to his sixteenth decaphoeb, steadily sending Lance’s mind into a frenzy. He did not understand what was happening at first, accusing his spasmodic sleeping schedule for all the recurring he had been having. It could not be called recurring though, per say, for there was only one thing recurring about them: a boy. 

Now, say whatever you want about it being ‘that’ time during a boy’s teenage quintants, but Lance knew it was something much more important. Every night they would cross paths again and again and each time, both of them were caught together in a different scenario; sometimes they strolled through the Royal Gardens, other times they traversed the Old Woods. Lance always attempted to make conversation with the boy, but he could never make much sense out of what they were saying. His mind remained muddled throughout the dreams, as if a thin veil had obscured all hints of logic with tiny eyes peeking out to guide him through the night. But Lance got the worst of it when he was conscious, for he could never remember what the boy had looked like. 

The first time he dreamt about the boy, he dismissed it as a childish fantasy. He had found himself in one of the long-forgotten chambers in one of the five towers, draped in rich blue silks. He could not remember if the silks were his, but deemed their origins unnecessary once his eyes had adjusted and he had caught sight of the figure sprawled across the divan, posture relaxed. He took in the red robes draped over the pale skin, slender fingers grasping at the headrest as the boy pushed himself out of his sprawl. He subconsciously held his breath as the boy neared and brushed past him to lean against a window he had not taken notice of, tilting his head back to look at Lance. Lance’s breath hitched. 

He woke up with a start – as he would soon learn – as soon as he reach out his hand and the tips of his fingers made contact with the skin of the boy’s face. Since that saintsforsaken night, Lance had dubbed the boy from his dreams as Red from the constant hue of his robes. 

The next night, he dreamt of Red again. This time they were in the Libraries, lounging together against the heat of the hearth. Lance noticed they both started appearing closer to each other with every dream since the first one; close enough to touch but physically never in equilibrium. Lance was clad in the same silks as he wore on the first night and he could tell they were reserved for occasions he had yet to participate in, he just did not know which occasion it was. Upon closer inspection, he realised that Red wore the official robes assigned to Fire Mages on the Mage Council. 

He wondered which scheming Saint would feed him scenarios of such a contrary pair in the dead of the night. 

That assumption grew stronger with each dream – Red was shy, hesitant to reciprocate even the most innocent of gestures Lance had made so far. And though Lance never understood what they were saying, he could see it was always him initiating their conversations. But the more he dreamt, the more it drove him mad. He could not, for the life of him, find the reason as to why he kept consistently dreaming of cute strangers instead of Chef Emil’s infamous cheesecakes. 

Lance sighed. He was hungry. 

_‘Maybe I can sneak out without them noti–’_

“Leandro Michelle Fiorentino!” 

Lance snapped back to reality, startled at being called out. Pidge glared at him with her hands placed on her hips and the intensity of the glare made him shrink back. “…what?”

Pidge frowned, “For once, will you please pay attention instead of daydreaming? Do you even know what’s going on?” 

Truth be told, he actually did not, in fact, know what was going on. He looked around the room, taking in the exasperated look Hunk bore and the tiredness dripping off of Matt’s face. Right, the Fire Mage… 

“Uh, you were discussing what happened with that Fire Mage…?” Lance tried, eyebrows rising expectantly and eliciting a groan from the tiny girl. “We did that vargas ago, Leandro.” 

Lance flinched. He hated it when his friends addressed him with the full form of his first name, and he knew they only used it when he was being far too troublesome. Recently he had been on the receiving end of being called that even more than before; he had sulked for the whole day when he had found out. Belatedly, he realised his mind felt muddled and the edges of his sight were beginning to blur, just like it did in his dreams surrounding Red. Lance raised himself from his perch on the unsurprisingly ginormous windowsill in his quarters with a tired sigh, hand rubbing at his exhausted eyes. “Sorry Pidge, I’m just not in the best shape right now; neither physically nor mentally.” 

Pidge’s intense gaze softened slightly, noticing the tired lines beneath Lance’s eyes and the exhaustion he hid with decaphoebs of practice. She felt bad for shouting at him instantly, having forgotten that he would have to face the trials of the Mage Council on this very quintant. 

Lance started pacing across the room, hands habitually finding themselves folding right against his abdomen. “Do we know what happened to the boy?” 

“Not yet,” Matt spoke up, running a hand through his brown ochre locks. “I think his name is Keith? He still hasn’t woken up. The High Mage is looking at him.”

“Adam?” Lance hummed, “Can I go see him? 

“Not just yet, Lance,” Matt chided, causing Lance’s eyebrows to furrow. Hunk moved to stand right in front of the Prince, effectively blocking him from the entrance of the room. “Lance, you still haven’t told us what you were doing there. We’ve been searching for you across the whole palace! Your ceremony is literally gonna start in just a varga!” 

Lance hesitated, gaze drifting away from meeting Hunk’s. Ever since he could not last a night without dreaming of Red, he started sneaking away from his lessons and meetings whenever he got the chance. When he was just a child, Lance had taken to exploring the palace and in the midst of his expeditions, he had discovered millions of secret passageways. He knew he was nowhere close to finding all of them but the ones he did find so far had served him well; he had dodged Adam and in turn his History of Magic lessons countless times with their help. His rendezvous within the passages had led him to find different hidden chambers within the castle. One of these chambers just so happened to be the room where his family had been hiding unlawful books for over centuries. He knew his mother would lead him to that very room after he had successfully gone through with his coronation, but an early discovery would not hurt anyone. Maybe. 

He had sought out the hidden library about a fortnight after the dreams first began; in the time from then til now, he had found many books on dreams and hallucinations, but he could not be sure if anything he found so far applied to him as well without further investigations as well as materials to investigate on. That unnerving feeling of drifting away that the dreams brought kept on increasing as his birthquin drew nearer, and he supposed that should be something for him to investigate about. He thought of giving the library one last visit before he had to meet with the Mage Council. 

Halfway through a book on how the stars you were born under played a major role on your future, Lance felt the distant restlessness he had been feeling all day longer grow stronger; something was calling him. Call him a podge but Lance knew something was happening, something was tugging his heartstrings eastwards. He recognized the passage, it was the one he avoided using to get here as the hallway it opened up in was always crowded with guards and maids and sometimes the nobles on the first floor came up for a view, but the hallway also led straight to his quarters and was a much shorter route compared to the one he usually took. He hesitated, knowing that it would be beyond crowded on a day like this – it was his sixteenth birthquin after all – but he decided to wing it, stepping forward to traverse through the dark corridor. When he emerged from the passageway after an impromptu library session, he clearly did not expect to end up with a handful of Fire Mage. The twinge of familiarity that rang through from the edge of his consciousness after taking in the boy’s features made a crimson warning blare across the back of his mind. The dizziness from the dreams increased tenfold but something new also seemed to grab a hold of him; frighteningly cold tendrils were squeezing the consciousness out of him. Lance promptly collapsed under the weight of the warm form engulfed in his arms. 

He had woken up in his quarters, his bed surrounded by the concerned trio of his only friends around the castle grounds. Lance was surprised to see Matt, as the boy was always busy assisting his father. About a varga later, he is face to face with Hunk, unable to answer any of the questions his best friend hurled at him. He bit his lips, contemplating what choices he had in this situation. He sighed, seemingly deciding to relent. 

“Look, Hunk,” Lance began, “today has been more stressful than you can even begin to imagine. I seriously needed a break from everything for at least half a varga.” Apparently the etiquette lessons with Madam Nadia had paid off with an excellent poker face and deception skills. He had his late father to thank for his dexterity at acting. 

Hunk’s eyebrows furrowed but the purpose in his eyes did not relent. He placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder, sensing how tense the boy had been this whole time. He raked his eyes over the boy’s slightly disheveled form, taking notice of the dark circles that should not have been there courtesy of Lance’s nightly facial routine and hints of freckles peeking through behind layers of makeup. “You haven’t been sleeping,” Hunk finally said. 

Lance gave a noncommittal little shrug accompanied with a small grunt from the back of his throat; he knew he could not keep his deteriorating state from Hunk for much longer, the big guy had been his friend since practically forever. He noticed that all three of his friends had let their guards down and took the chance, mumbling something about checking up on Adam before strategically evading his friends’ attempts at manhandling him back into his bed so that he would lie down once more. He treaded down the corridor with quiet footfalls, steps quieter than those of the Wraith’s; he wondered what sort of circumstance he had gotten himself tangled up in. he brushed slender fingers across his tired eyelids, a sigh fluttering alongside a yawn past his soft parted lips, before determination reached its peak and he knew he could not share information as sensitive as this with anyone – not even Adam, no matter how wise he might be. 

Suddenly, Lance felt a presence sneak up behind him and cursed himself for letting his guard down so easily. He quickly twirled back with his posture ready to defend himself if the intruder decided to make the mistake of attacking him but was instead met with the hazel tint of his younger sister’s gaze. He let his himself lower his arms to his sides harmlessly but did not let himself relax his posture; Leah Iliana Fiorentino was notorious for being highly unpredictable with her actions. But all he got from her as a crushing hug and a relieved sigh he was only able to catch because of her face being tightly pressed right against the curve of his ear shell. His shoulders sagged as he finally let himself relax completely, wrapping his arms around tiny yet sturdy figure of his sister and resting his chin on top of her mop of soft brown curls, seeking the comforting warmth of her familiar scent that he had grown so attached to over the decaphoebs. Lance reluctantly broke apart from her when he felt her pulling back. 

“Where the quiznack have you been!?” she punching him on the shoulder. He almost dodged it, and bitterly reprimanded himself for not expecting that after decaphoebs of being around her. “I don’t think you’re using that word right, Lee…” Lance mumbled with an over-exaggerated frown, reaching out to rub his barely wounded shoulder. 

Leah ignored him, much to his perpetual chagrin, “Do you have any idea how worried I was!? I enter your quarters and nothing! The guards search the whole palace and nothing! Not even a single fucking trace of you!” 

“No cursing,” Lance clicked his tongue at his sister’s language. 

“Fuck you, I do what I want,” Leah continued. “I swear on Saint Pyotr’s beard, if you disappear on me like that again, I will make sure you never see one of Chef Emil’s cheesecakes ever again.” Lance gasped in mock offense, indignation plastered across the soft curves that assembled his features as he dramatically clutched the area right over his heart as if he had been wounded. “You would do that to me!?” 

Leah chuckled maliciously, used to her brother’s antics after fourteen decaphoebs of living with him – at least, enough to make her own rebuttals, “I won’t hesitate, you podge.” 

Lance huffed out a small laugh that went unnoticed, pleased with himself for being able to make his sister laugh even if it was not entirely unprejudiced towards making him suffer, before he took her diminutive hand in his infinitely larger ones and gave it a small, loving squeeze. “I’m gonna go check up on Adam and see how the Fire Mage is doing, the one that fainted on me. Wanna tag along?” 

“I wish I could,” Leah sighed untangling her hand from her brother’s and retracting it after squeezing it back, “but I’d rather not be stuck with Sir Curio any longer than necessary.” 

Lance had a blast laughing at his sister’s misfortune; everyone around the castle was well aware of Sir Curio’s capricious mood swings. He grimaced slightly, feeling infinitely luckier at being luckier at being stuck with Adam, even if the man could never appreciate his godly sense of humour. He flashed one last smile at Leah before parting ways with her, directing himself towards the infirmary. The whole palace had been decked with blue, even the infirmary wing. The curtains, the carpets and even the flames that lit up the hallways from the candelabras and chandeliers burned a bluish hue. Honestly, Lance found it all unnecessary; what was the point of putting all these artificialities up when they would have to be taken down the very next quintant? He did not like how it reminded himself of how temporary everything was in his life. The thought left a trail of bitterness reverberating through Lance and he hurried to stuff it down inside him; Princes did not have time to think about themselves when there where whole kingdoms to be run. 

He opened the entrance to the reception of the infirmary and sent a wink flying towards a young nurse tending to a wounded stable boy, eliciting a squeak accompanied by a bright scarlet blush from her. He chortled, his charming façade already beginning to settle down snugly in its permanent home surrounding every crack in his being. 

He turned right after headed towards the private chambers tucked away in the eastern wing of the infirmary, knowing that Adam would absolutely refuse to work without complete privacy. He only paused once to inquire about which room the boy was being held hostage by the Head Mage in from a nurse heading back towards the reception before he was on his way towards the end of the hallway. He was welcomed by the sight of Adam brushing his fingers across the ravenette’s forehead, softly muttering incantations. Lance coughed softly to garner the older man’s attention and just like he had suspected, the Head Mage continued on muttering even after looking up once to acknowledge him. Lance slipped into the room, softly closing the door shut behind him and taking a seat on the edge of the cot on which the young Fire Mage rested. 

Lance took in the unconscious boy’s features, trying to figure out just why he seemed so familiar. Nostalgia danced across his mind, familiarity filling up his senses as confusion clouded his eyes. Lance hated being in the dark, even if it was from his own mind. Shaggy black curls fell across the boy’s forehead covering most of what Lance could see of his eyes, eyelashes fluttering across the pale skin of his cheeks as if they had no worries in the world. The Fire Mage was disturbingly pale, as if he had not seen sunlight in phoebs. Lance could see the slight tint of blue veins lining his face from where he was perched, leading up the boy’s nestled eyelids. 

He wondered what colour his eyes were. 

Lance shook his head, reprimanding himself for getting distracted again. This was not the time. 

He spoke up right after Adam stopped hurling incantations at the poor boy and retired to his seat beside the bed, “Do you know what happened to him?” 

“I can’t tell yet,” Adam sighed, rubbing the exhaustion away from his face with those hands of his, worn out with the use of magic over the years but Lance could still see the lines under the man’s eyes. Lance hesitated when Adam continued, “What about you? Why did you faint?” 

He knew he could trust Adam with his life, the man had practically raised Lance himself, but the boy himself did not know exactly what had happened and why he had fainted. He assumed it had nothing to do with the unconscious Fire Mage; Lance was not so weak that he would collapse under someone’s weight, and the boy looked far too frail to weigh much. He knew his dreams had some sort of connection with what happened a varga ago but knew close to nothing about the dreams themselves. Lance settled for a half–truth. “I guess the nerves and absurdity of the situation got to me.” 

Adam hummed, obviously not believing the boy despite his brilliant acting skills. Lance hurried to change the subject before the man could pry further. “Who is he?” 

“You don’t know him?” Adam asked, a hint of a coy smile starting on the edge of his lips as mirth crowded his eyes. Lance nodded slowly, confused at Adam’s sudden change in demeanor, but he would take what he could get, “Should I?” 

Adam chuckled, shaking his head slightly, “I guess you could say he’s my heir. Shiro and I practically adopted him and I’ve been training him since. He’s disturbingly powerful, and would be dangerous if he learned how to control his magic.”

“’Control his magic’?” Lance echoed, confusion etched across his face. “What do you mean?” 

“I actually don’t know myself, his spells go haywire every time he attempts to cast one,” Adam shook his head slightly before continuing, voice laced with adoration. “His name is Keith.” 

“Keith,” Lance repeated softly. 

It just so happened that the said boy gasped loudly just then, springing up from where he was lying on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like cliffhangers far too much 
> 
> happy halloween!! i might not post for a few weeks because exams but uhh enjoy uwu


	4. ━ e.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Excuse you, I’m very pretty!” 
> 
> “And petty too it seems.” 
> 
> “Pettiness is a small price to pay for this immense beauty.” 
> 
> “And your personality was a price too, I assume?” 
> 
> “Excuse me, I have a wonderful personality!” Lance squawked indignantly.

All the Saints and your Aunt Eva. 

Keith groaned, a headache erupting under the surface of his temple and throbbing painfully. His stomach felt queasy and his head was spinning from his hurry to sit up. He looked around, seeing and unseeing everything all at once as his mind was thrown into a frenzy of muddled thoughts. He barely registered the sound of Adam calling out his name echoing distantly in the blank crevices carved into his mind by the terrifying chill settling deep into his bones and shaking him out of his dazed reverie. 

Keith took in a shaky breath. He turned in the direction from which he thought he had heard Adam’s voice all out to him. 

He jerked back when he felt something cold pressing against the corner of his lips, bringing back the phantom feeling of the freezing tendrils squeezing the life out of him who know how long ago. He relaxed when he caught the comforting glint of Adam’s warm brown eyes over the rim of the glass of water. 

“Drink up,” the man’s voice was soft but firm, calming Keith as he dropped two pills in the boy’s hand. “These too.” 

Keith gulped the pills down, hissing at the chill of the water running down his throat and releasing a relieved sigh when his vision finally cleared. He took in his surroundings. He was in one of the private chambers at the infirmary and almost got whiplash from how fast he did a double-take when his violet eyes met blue. 

“Y–Your highness!?” 

A blush invaded his cheekbones when he registered how shrill his voice sounded. He quickly pushed the heat back down, deliberately ignoring the exasperated sigh Adam failed to keep to himself. 

“Yeah…?” the Prince asked awkwardly before he seemed to suddenly realise something. “Oh, right! You remember what happened? Because you fainted on top of me, not that I minded.” 

“I fainted?” Keith echoed before horror dawned on him. “ _On top of you_!?” 

“Not everyone can resist my dashingly good looks,” Keith’s descent into resembling a cherry at Prince Leandro’s accompanying cheeky wink was interrupted by Adam’s voice, which only ended up making Keith blush more. “Enough flirting. Keith, don’t pressurize your brain. Your blood pressure is already low.” 

“Is that why everything feels so blurred?” Keith asked. 

“You’re feeling hazy too?” Prince Leandro asked, half-rising from his perch on the hospital bed Keith laid atop before he shrunk back after noticing Adam’s disapproving frown. “Lance, if you’ve been feeling hazy, you should’ve said something.” 

“I’m fine! Just stressed,” he tried to assure, receiving a suspicious glance from Adam. 

“Then why did you ask Keith if he’s feeling it too?” 

The Prince obviously hesitated, before saying, “Just wondered if it had something to do with why he fainted back there.” Adam still narrowed his eyes at the boy before he turned back to Keith. “You should get some rest, I know you just woke up, but you look exhausted.” 

“I’m fine, Adam,” Keith groaned out, frown tugging at his lips. He knew he needed to figure out why he fainted and why he could still feel traces of long-forgotten Magic in his veins; more importantly, why was it affecting just him? 

At least, it was just him as far as he knew. 

Prince Leandro coughed slightly, garnering both Keith and the High Mage’s attention as he stood up from his perch on Keith’s bed. Keith noticed his slender fingers tugging nervously at the hem of his waistcoat before his eyes slid up the Prince’s form. They made eye contact. Keith looked away with a slight flush visible on his cheeks. 

“Well, I’ll be off now,” The Prince laughed awkwardly. “Have a pre-coronation ceremony and whatnot.” 

“Right,” Keith suddenly remembered what day it was. He turned back to Adam. “Don’t we have to be there too?” 

“You’re gonna be there too?” Prince Leandro’s voice sounded intrigued, his eyebrow quirked up in interest. Keith suddenly felt extremely awkward talking directly with the Prince. “Uh, I guess? I am next in line after Adam after all.” 

“Ah, right,” He nodded once before giving them both an awkward grin. “I’m gonna go… get ready?” 

Adam hummed nonchalantly. “You should. Your coming-of-age ceremony starts in less than a varga.” The Prince gave another awkward nod before turning around to leave. The second Keith thought he was out of earshot, he let out a painful wail. He could distantly hear Adam snickering past the blood rushing in his ears. “Saint Lorenzo, that was so bloody awkward!”  
Adam finally lost it and started laughing in full-fledged Adam-style, snorts and all. Keith smacked him on the arm and the man almost went toppling on the floor, laughter still not ceasing. Keith pouted. 

Adam giggled, “Saints, that was hilarious.” 

Keith sighed. “Don’t you have to prepare for the coming-of-age ceremony? Or did you forget that you’re for some reason the High Mage?” 

Adam shoved Keith on his way to stand up. “Since you’re adamant about not resting, you have work too. Come along now.” The boy huffed but complied, following the older man with another sorrowful sigh. 

* * *

Keith could practically taste the anticipation floating around the Ancient Gardens. 

The Ancient Gardens, like the name obviously suggested, were ancient. Keith was never one to be interested in History – he always had a knack for things more physical, like sword-fighting – but he did have to go through quite a few of Adam’s preparations for his History of Magic lessons with the Prince. But even then, everyone knew the Gardens were sacred. They were situated on the Aisle of Beginnings, an island stranded in the midst of the famous Lake Lia which is said to be created under the hands of the twin Saints Aurelia and Cordelia. Everything that the Lake touches is said to be magical. 

Looking at Prince Leandro right now, Keith does not find any difficulty in believing that. 

As tradition states, the heir to the throne is to be bathed in the waters of the Lake Lia under the watchful eyes of the Saints before they are deemed worthy of ruling Altea and blessed by the Mage Council. The Prince had already gone through the first part of the ritual, and was now returning to the Aisle from the Lake. 

Keith did not find it in himself to be able to watch the Prince practically half naked and had decided, for his betterment, to arrive at the Aisle alongside the Mage Council for the second half of the ceremony. He was currently standing behind where Adam was perched on his place as the High Mage. The Royal Guards lined the perimeter of the Aisle, guarding the area while the Mage Council formed a circle in the exact center with the Queen at the head. All four apprentices of each member of the Mage Council, including Keith, was standing behind their respective masters. Keith was sure the guard directly opposite him and Adam was Shiro trying to make faces at his fiancée. 

Keith frowned at the pair before his attention was once again snatched by Prince Leandro approaching the wooden dais on the smack dab center of the Aisle of Beginnings. He was dressed in a silver robe with his hair sticking out in adorable little tufts, water glistening on his face. Keith resisted the urge to sigh dreamily. By the time the Prince finally approached the dais, the boy was surprised he did not start drooling. 

Prince Leandro stopped right in front of his mother before dropping into a graceful bow on his knees. “Mother,” he muttered. 

“Rise, son,” the Queen’s voice boomed across the expanse of juniberry flowers on the Aisle, breaking Keith out of his Prince Leandro-induced stupor. A slight shiver raked through his form. The Queen was infamous for the cold mask she never failed to portray. Despite her less than welcome attitude, all of Altea knew she wanted nothing but the best for her country and combined with the fact that all the locals practically saw her grow up ensured irrevocable loyalty from them all. Keith batted away another bout of chills. 

Prince Leandro seemed undeterred by his mother’s poker face. He flashed a radiant smile towards her and Keith wondered how everyone in close proximity to him did not end up with burns. He turned his face away to avoid the worst of it. 

The Prince pivoted on his heels, turning to face the stone dais situated directly across from him. Keith saw him take in a big gulp of air before he began his walk up the three stone steps. Keith felt himself shiver, noting how distant the Prince seemed to him. Something felt wrong. He could see Prince Leandro shaking as he made his way towards the center of the dais but it was probably due to nerves. The weather was cold enough as it is, the bath in the chilly expanses of the Lake probably made it worse. 

Keith rubbed his hands together to gather some heat. 

The Prince was currently perched on the center of the dais, palms folded on top of each other settled on his lap. Keith felt his fingers dancing against his thigh where they rested against his side from the jittery ambience he was sure everyone must have been feeling. He heard the Earth Mage from the Council begin his recitations from the olden traditions. The other Mages from the followed when their turn arrived, their apprentices making their element shower over their head. Currently the Air Mage, Samuel Holt, was halfway through his recitations while Matthew, his apprentice and a friend of Shiro’s as far as Keith knew, made air bellow around the man from behind him. 

Keith gulped. Making a little water rain around Adam should not be that hard. It was easier if the Mage’s apprentice had the same element as the Mage but different elements were not unheard of as long as the Council had all the elements in the end. As the Head Mage, Adam’s turn was the last one right before the Queen. 

He tested himself, gathering some water drops in his palms where they were hidden behind Adam’s form. He has been practicing this all week now, he knows he can do this. Keith huffs at his poor attempt at Magic before wiping away all evidence of it on the trousers of his robes. He tries again, this time at least able to form a tunnel of water in between his palms. He attempts to hide how the effort made him pant. 

Distracted with his own Magic, he almost missed it when the Fire Mage finished reciting her allegiance to Prince Leandro’s rule. It was Adam’s turn now. He quickly brought his hands up, bringing back the tunnel of water and watched as droplets swished back and forth in the tunnel in between his hands. He hard Adam starting his recitations. 

“As the representative Mage of all the Water Mages out there, I pledge our aid and allegiance to the rule of Prince Leandro Michelle Fiorentino when he turns of age and hereby give him our blessings under the watchful eyes of the Saints of Water,” the man recited from memory before sending a single stream of water straight inside the Prince’s palm, where the other four elements already resided. Keith wondered how the fire did not burn him. 

Finally dropping his hands, Keith made the water evaporate by calling up heat to his palms and cursed himself when he felt sweat breaking out on his forehead at the attempt. A shiver raked through him and Keith wished he could for once control his Magic and keep himself warm. The Queen broke him out of his self-deprecating reverie by starting to speak, “Crown Prince Leandro, do you accept your fate to rule as the next King of Altea?” 

A tense silence reigned as the Prince did not speak up immediately. 

“Prince Leandro?” the Queen tried again. Keith bit back a sneeze. From his position, he thought the Prince’s eyes looked clouded. He distantly registered thinking it was unnaturally cold for the beginning of August before a sudden dizziness grasped hold of him and forced a gasp out of him. 

Apparently everyone else around him felt it too as gasps of confusion echoed around him. He heard confused questions around him but failed to register their meanings. He managed to fight back the dizziness with another gulp of fresh air before he felt those same freezing tendrils choke him from the inside. He cried out and fell to his knees, feeling himself choke further. Looking up, he tried to assess the situation around him. The Queen herself had apparently fainted and the Mages were all gathered around her, the guards confused but on alert. No one had noticed Keith’s situation yet. 

His gaze, however, suddenly zeroed in on the Prince for some reason. The Prince was choking too. 

Keith pushed himself up from the ground, staggering forward towards Prince Leandro. Reaching the younger boy, he reached out slightly, almost pulling back with a hiss at how freezing cold his skin was. He fought past the nausea and gripped the Prince’s forearms, trying to focus on his Magic. He forced some of the heat from his Magic to transfer over to the other boy and felt the tendrils give away from the chokehold it had him. 

He felt the boy shudder violently under his fingertips and almost pulled his hands away before the Prince collapsed right on his chest. What was it with them both and fainting? “You’re Highness!” Keith cried out, trying to shake the Prince awake. 

Alerted from his cries, a few of the Mages seemed to notice what was happening with the Prince. Adam turned to look from where he was focused on the Queen. “Keith!” he called out. Said boy turned to look at him in question. 

“Take him to his quarters and look after him. Make sure he’s safe! I’ll be there after I ensure the Queen’s safety,” he called out instructions before turning to the others. “Council members, follow me. We have a situation at hand.” 

Keith gathered the unconscious Prince in his arms, not hesitating to follow the Head Mage’s orders as the other apprentices of the Council members hovered around them. He noticed Samuel turn to them from the periphery of his vision. “You three, go with him. Guard the Prince at all costs.” 

Not waiting for the others, the Fire Mage turned on his heel and started sprinting towards the edge of the Aisle. He heard Matthew call out to him from somewhere behind him but did not bother to respond. His focus was now completely on his Magic, compelling it to freeze a pathway across the Lake in order to enable them to reach the Palace Grounds. He distantly registered that his Magic did not act up this time though failed to acknowledge the reason why. 

He rushed across the narrow bridge he had managed to form over the length of the Lake, careful not to trouble the unconscious boy in his arms. He allowed himself a sigh of relief when he picked up on the sound of footsteps behind him. The cold creeping up his limbs was rather welcome compared to the terrifying chill of the Magic gripping him. His thoughts turned back to what had happened back at the Aisle, how he had felt a desperate urge to make sure Prince Leandro was alright. Sure, he was impulsive, but this something else entirely. He knew this had nothing to do with his crush on the Prince. Far too animalistic, too unnatural. 

Entering the Palace Grounds, Keith crisscrossed through the elaborately outlined map of flora and fauna designed to disconcert unwanted intruders. He had it memorized like the feeling of his magic circulating in his veins. He made his way towards the East Wing with three other Mages hot on his trail, careful not to jostle the Prince too much, braid flipping along with the wind smacking him in the face. 

Once inside the eastern part of the castle, Keith bounded up the circular staircase, all the while ignoring the inquisitive gazes of all the servants. He took a moment to feel bad for them, knowing that all their hard work on the decorations had probably gone to waste. 

Regardless, Prince Leandro’s safety was their first priority. He was not about to screw it up. 

Keith felt himself pant a little from the exertion of having to climb Saints know how many stairs to reach the Prince’s quarters. Giving a huff of success, he ignored the tiny beans of sweat clinging to the back of his neck in favour of getting Prince Leandro safely in his quarters. The guards alarmed at the sudden commotion relaxed after noticing it was him, but became steadily perplexed after noticing the unconscious Prince in his arms. 

Keith barreled past them, struggling to open the doors to Prince Leandro’s rooms with the boy still immobile in his arms. Matthew rushed forward to help. Raising the Prince’s hand in his own, the boy pressed it against the pattern of scattered doves on the wood. The lines glowed a faint teal before pushing open. Matthew held it open for Keith to enter first. 

Once inside, Keith had no idea what to do. 

Sensing his confusion, Matthew tried to help, gesturing to the double doors to their left, “Those are his sleeping quarters, we should lay him down and see if he wakes up before the Head Mage comes here.” 

Nodding, Keith moves to open them. Surprised that the doors gave away easily as he was expecting resistance, Keith tried to hide it as he entered. He did not need the apprentice Mages thinking the Head Mage’s apprentice was a floundering mess, although it was obvious he quite frankly was. Heading towards the bed, Keith could feel Matthew’s gaze burning into the back of his head from where he stood by the door. He tried his best to ignore it. He gently laid down the sleeping Prince in his arms down on the sheets, distantly thinking about how the bed was much smaller than he had expected royalty to indulge in. Prince Leandro’s face was troubled in his slumber, eyebrows creasing in distress as if lost in the drapes of a nightmare. He gently smoothed out the crease in his eyebrows without thinking. 

He froze, realizing what he just did. 

Hiding his blush behind his mess of a braid, Keith quickly draped the sheets over the other boy’s vulnerable form, noticing the goosebumps starting to form on his bare arms. Hesitating a little, he hurried to join Matthew at the door with the other apprentices. Keith wrapped his arms around himself to find some sense of comfort as he closed the door behind him. 

“Is the Prince still sleeping?” Matt asked to break the awkwardness slowly obscuring the atmosphere despite the answer being obvious. Before any of them could prod further into the situation, the main doors to the currently unconscious Prince’s quarters burst open to reveal the distressed face of Princess Leah. 

Being the second child, Keith never saw the Princess around as much as Prince Leandro’s presence had haunted him in the corridors of the castle. He blamed that on Shiro. The Princess had short white hair to match her brother’s, skin a shade darker than his caramel bronze. The soft material hugging the brown skin was a light blue, making her eyes pop. 

Keith suspected that in a reality where he was not so irrevocably queer, she would be the Royal she fancied. 

Said Royal hurried towards where the next line of Council members were gathered, her cloak miraculously not getting caught in the slam of the doors behind her although Keith suspected that she had used Magic. “Where is he?” she demanded, sounding composed despite her disheveled state. Perks of being royalty, he guessed. Matthew meekly pointed towards the bedroom door and Princess Leah marched past without a second glance back. 

The awkward silence that ensued after the bedroom slammed close was one Keith would like to claim he was used to but it still managed to make him uncomfortable. He wanted to leave. Adam would probably kill him. 

Today has been a long, long day. 

Princess Leah walked out after half a varga, looking more and more like her late father with a frown growing on her pursed lips. Her incessant pacing was also a sign of whose daughter she was. Keith never knew the late King, but Shiro did. The man was like an uncle to Keith’s current pseudo-brother/father figure, having guided him like he is guiding Keith now. The honored man had disappeared mid-voyage along with the rest of his crew, and everyone justified it as the ship sinking. 

Shiro never believed that. 

The Princess suddenly turned to face the young Mages with narrowed eyes. “Who’s in charge here?” Keith seemed to shrink in on himself as three pairs of eyes turned to him before meekly raising his hand. “Uhm… I’m under the Head Mage?” 

“Fine, you’ll do,” Princess Leah sighed, subconsciously pinching the bridge of her nose with exhaustion. “Go in and keep an eye out. Make sure nothing happens to the Prince.” 

Keith hoped no one could tell how much he wanted the ground to swallow him whole right then. 

* * *

Keith felt like he had been doing a lot of pretending lately. Pretending to understand what Adam taught him; pretending he was in full control of his Magic; pretending he did not fancy the Prince. Now, he attempted to pretend that he was not staring as said Prince’s drowsy lashes fluttered open. 

He tried to his best to not let his gaze dance away when it embraced Prince Leandro’s. 

“…Keith?” the Prince appeared much frailer than Keith was used to seeing him as he called out from where he laid on the sheets. Years of knowing what the fuck was going on helped him hide his surprise when he processed what the Prince had said. He remembered. “That’s your name, right?” 

He gulped. He was far too stressed for a seventeen-year-old. “It’s me, Your Highness.” 

“Huh,” the boy mumbled out intelligently, eloquence gleaming through all his Princely glory. He looked adorable trying to bear in his surroundings, the blinking of his eyes owlish. Keith shook his head. “Can you tell me what happened? All I remember is feeling really cold and then passing out…” 

Keith frowned at Prince Leandro’s lack of caution. How can he be sure that he was not kidnapped and Keith was just some really powerful Mage pretending to be someone else? Keith blindly thought that that assumption would not be too off the mark. “I’m not sure what exactly occurred, Your Highness, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be this careless in a situation like this.” 

“Well, excuse me for being knocked out,” the Prince sent a frown his way at the tone he had used. Keith sighed. 

“Your mother, the Queen, is unconscious as well, although I’m not certain if she has already awaken or not. The High Mage sent us to guard you and Princess Leah assigned me in here to watch over you,” he tried to keep his voice monotonous, he really did. It was not his fault if his voice wavered towards the end. He was alone in a room with the Prince. Distantly, Keith wondered how many girls out there would kill to be in his place. 

“I–Is Leah okay?” 

Keith thought about how shaken the girl seemed. “She’s fine.” He hesitated. “I should… I should go call her, and notify the High Mage that you’ve awoken.” He was surprised by the hand that grasped his wrist when he turned around, to say the least. Turning around, he saw the Prince leaning over the edge of the bed to reach him. 

“W–Wait! Could you, uh… I mean– just… _fuck_.” The boy ran a hand through his silver locks in frustration. “Could you not call them just yet, please? I don’t feel like being caged in right now.” 

“Oh, uh,” Keith could get what he meant by caged in. “…Sure. Would you prefer it if I left?” 

“Actually… would you mind staying for a bit? I don’t really wanna be alone right now,” Keith really had no idea how the fuck he landed himself in this situation. How was he supposed to reply to that? Shiro was gonna have a field day laughing over this. 

He gulped. He can do this. “Um, okay? Do you need anything, Your Highness?” 

“Could you distract me for a bit?” the voice called out meekly, quiet enough that Keith had to strain himself to hear it. He disappointedly noted that the Prince had let go of his hand. “Anything will do.” 

What the fuck was he supposed to do? Saints. 

“Uh, happy birthday?” 

Prince Leandro looked surprised. He let out a laugh that did not quite sound right. “Did Adam not teach you how to speak to Royalty?” 

Keith frowned. He was beginning to rethink his impression on the Prince. “Well, I’m sorry for not ending everything I say with Your Majesty, _Your Majesty_.” 

The Prince surprisingly shrunk back, eyes wide and flabbergasted. His arms flailed around wildly for a hot minute before he seemed to gather himself, spitting out in a weak attempt, “That’s not what I meant!” 

Keith crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised. “Dare I ask what you meant, _Your Majesty_?” 

Prince Leandro scowled. “Stop calling me that. I was talking about how you were phrasing everything as a question, just… just call me Lance.” Keith did not know what to think, taken aback enough that a quiet ‘huh?’ was able to escape his eloquent self. Lance smirked. 

“That’s what my friends call me. As you’re Adam’s apprentice, I’m assuming I’m going to be seeing more of you?” Keith mumbled out something incoherent in reply. _Lance. The_ Prince Leandro wanted _Keith_ to call him by his _nickname_. He was too busy with the dawning horror of the realization of the loophole in his plan to avoid the Prince his whole life and the fact that the Prince wanted him to call him Lance to see that the Prince had heard the _unfortunately_ that had accompanied his ‘yes’. 

“Hey! Nothing could be more fortunate than getting to see the prettiest face _ever_ on a daily basis!” Keith reluctantly may have agreed with the notion but that did not mean he was about to feed some Royal bastard’s ego. He hoped the Pri– _Lance_ did not see that his frown was fake. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen better.” 

“Excuse you, I’m _very_ pretty!” 

“And petty too it seems.” 

“Pettiness is a small price to pay for this immense beauty.” 

“And your personality was a price too, I assume?” 

“Excuse me, I have a wonderful personality!” Pri– _Lance_ squawked indignantly. 

Keith hummed, “You’re excused.” 

Keith had never, not even in his wildest dreams – all of which had consisted of many versions of Lance – would have thought that he would be so… narcissistic. And his ego was not much better either. Keith was slowly losing all the dreams he had painted of this boy, but he did not really think that was a bad thing. Maybe this obnoxious version of Lance would help knock away the sweet, cooing one his dreams had shaped at night. 

He can finally get over this boy. His terrible personality ensured so. 

Finally. 

Keith cannot wait to finally dream peacefully again. 

But oh dream he did that night. But even then, he was not rid of this haunting beauty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhh yes i'm back school's over exams are over so lo and behold kl interaction !! 
> 
> i'm gonna try my best to update by next sunday i promise ok (don't trust me)


	5. ━ v.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leandro surprised him by raising his hand slowly, reaching towards his face, and Keith froze, breath hitching in his throat. The hand tentatively came close enough to almost touch but still not reaching that boundary, slender fingers unfurling to brush the soft skin of his finger pads tenderly against Keith’s cheekbones–

Keith never dreamt, that was one thing he was certain of. He was not sure why it was starting now. 

It felt far too lucid to not be real. 

He was in the Royal Library, leaning against the back of one of the settees set around the hearth. Raking his eyes around, he took in his surroundings. The comforting smell of books and incense burned his senses. Was it possible to smell things in dreams? The Royal Library was ginormous, Keith knew that, yet he was still surprised to find that he had never been to this part of the Library before. Granted, he did not have a habit of visiting this particular one as Adam’s own collection of books had more than satisfied his curiosity, but he still made sure to make frequent visits to the place. 

The Library took up about all of the palace’s third floor, the only other occupant being the staircases leading to and out of it. It was rare for Keith to see windows when he was in here, as it would require him to be at the edge of the Library. But here they were, windows adorning the majority of the wall he could see. 

Getting up from the settee, he walked over to the window. 

Looking down, he could see the edges of Lake Lia peeking from beyond the maze on the Palace Grounds. With a jolt, he realised he must have been towards the very back of the Library if he had these for a sight. Noticing his reflection on the glass, Keith immediately took a step back. 

He was in his Fire Mage attire. 

He despised these robes. 

Looking down at himself, he hurried to take off the robes. If he was going to have a dream for once, he would rather the memory of it be pleasant. He draped the fabric over the back of the settee and took in his remaining clothes. He was in the signature creamy-hued satin tunic that most Mages adorned, and tight black slacks ending tucked into his boots. He could work with this. Placing his hands on his hips, he tried to make sense of what was happening. 

His senses were slightly hazy and muddled, resulting in sluggish movements that left him feeling drunk. There was a soft knocking against the back of his temple, as if a warning for an oncoming headache– wait, no that was a real sound– 

Footsteps. 

Keith tensed, too sluggish to have registered the noise as a threat before. He changed his posture, stance resembling one he had picked up from Shiro back when he was still allowed to choose what he wanted to do with his life– 

Not the time, Keith. 

Following the sound of soft steps echoing against the quiet of the huge Library, he could see a lithe figure enter the area of his periphery. With another jolt, Keith realised that he did not need to be defensive, there was no way he could be harmed in any way in a dream. This felt far too real. 

He still did not turn around to look at the other person. 

This whole thing was unnerving to him. Since when are you able to control what you do in your dreams? Are dreams not supposed to be a portrayal of your subconscious desires? Since when does Keith ha– 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you without your robes.” Prince Leandro? 

Turning on the spot, he met the younger boy’s gaze with wide eyes. The Prince blinked twice. 

“Wh– Who are you!?” Leandro glared, as if Keith’s presence had offended him greatly. “And where’s Red? What did you do to him!?” 

Keith blinked, wildly confused. “It’s me? Keith? Who’s Red– what–” 

A loud gasp interrupted Keith, as the Prince’s eyes widened with shock once more. His left hand came up to clutch the arm of the settee as if he needed to support himself while the other hand reached out to rest on his temple. Keith darted forward, instinct telling him to support the Prince as the boy’s knees buckled slightly but one intense look from him had Keith freezing. He contemplated his choices while stuck in a situation as bizarre as this. “…Are you okay?” 

“No, I’m not,” Leandro snapped, then groaned. “Sorry, I’m usually more polite. You don’t get stuck in dreamscapes with people who hate your guts every day.” 

“I don’t– hate your guts?” it was quite the contrary, Keith added silently, confused as to what made the Prince think otherwise. Leandro raised an eyebrow at his before shaking his head slightly, as if to shake himself out of a daze. “This is way too confusing. Keith, right? So… you’re Red?” 

Keith frowned, confusion marring his sharp features. “I have no idea who this Red you keep talking about is. And do you have any idea what’s happening? This feels far too lucid to be a dream.” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure Red is you,” Leandro hummed, “but I don’t really know what’s going on either.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve been having these dreams for quite some time now, six months almost,” Leandro started, “in those dreams, there was always a man dressed in the same robes as yours. Fire Mage robes. He even had the same build as you, but I could never see his – your – face. I named him Red.” 

Keith did not know what to say, or even how to process this. “Oh.” 

“The dreams never felt this real, though,” Leandro continued. “Always hazy enough that I never understood what was happening, just that I was with you.” 

So. Leandro dreamed about him. 

The Prince Leandro had dreams about him. 

Okay, no, that’s– not– yeah, no, that is not possible. This is probably just his subconscience making up stories to soothe his pathetically pining self. This was not actually happening, even if it felt unnervingly real. Yeah, not possible. Mhm, it’s– 

“Keith?” Leandro’s voice broke the Fire Mage out of his inner monologue, making him blink twice in confusion. “Are you okay? You kinda spaced out for a bit there.” 

“Oh, I’m–” Keith coughed, “–fine. I think.” 

And that made Leandro smile. And fuck. What was he so pretty for? With that smile so soft around the edges, so small but still making the corners of his turquoise eyes crinkle. Keith noticed how it brought out a tiny dimple on his left cheek, unnoticeable unless you looked closely. Keith averted his gaze before the boy could catch him staring. 

“Keith?” Leandro called out, eliciting a hum from said boy in reply. Leandro spoke again, this time his voice much smaller and fragile to Keith’s ears. “Can I try something?” 

Keith nodded mutely, unsure of how to answer. Leandro surprised him by raising his hand slowly, reaching towards his face, and Keith froze, breath hitching in his throat. The hand tentatively came close enough to almost touch but still not reaching that boundary, slender fingers unfurling to brush the soft skin of his finger pads tenderly against Keith’s cheekbones– 

Keith woke up, panting. 

It was just a dream after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hh im back. finally. 
> 
> i know this is very short but sksj i wanted their first dream together to be a single chapter uwu
> 
> so i made a monthly updating schedule that i'll hopefully stick to. probably. maybe. :D

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hislance) for more stuff on this story!!


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